I wish I could walk like Scooter Libby.
With his park like smile,
turning from side to side,
so serene.

I wish I could glide down the sidewalk
skeleton aligned in majesty.
With self appreciation
glowing from a perfect shave.

A professionally harmonious gate,
a carefully selected pace.
Exhibiting a flare of righteousness,
from a face warm and gently fashioned.

Stepping over the corpses of al-Haditha,
unseen and unfelt.
Firmly unruffled in the Washington sun,
by bullets and murder.

© Mark Hebard 2006